


A Promise Kept

by WatercolourSkies



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale and Crowley Met Before The Fall (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Fallen Angel Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, Pining, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), The Fall (Good Omens), except I take a lot of creative liberties with it and kind of make it my own thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22051969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatercolourSkies/pseuds/WatercolourSkies
Summary: Raphael has fallen. He has been cast down out of Heaven, never allowed to return, never even given the chance to repent. Which is all terrible, obviously, but he feels as if it may have been just slightly bearable if this didn't mean that he was losing Aziraphale.In which Raphael doesn't break his promises, and Aziraphale knows that, and it is, at this point, the only thing that is keeping him going.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	A Promise Kept

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic that I am posting on here! I hope you like it, and if you have any questions about anything that happenes, please feel free to ask.  
> I would be so grateful for any Kudos and comments left, but obviously no pressure. :) Have a lovely day!

Raphael was going to Fall. He supposed that, deep down, he had always known that this was how it was going to end. God had made it clear long ago that, kind and merciful as She was, there was only a certain amount of insolence She would accept before having to put Her foot down. And yet, Raphael had always been sure to never cross any lines; he asked a lot of questions, sure, but only on the level of, ‘Why are certain angels at a higher rank than others?' and ‘Do you have any plans for your next creation?’ Innocent ponderings that he was genuinely curious about and that God was, nearly every time, more than happy to answer. If there was ever a question that She seemed reluctant to answer, he would back down and accept that it was another part of Her Ineffable Plan. And so it went on. 

That is, until Lucifer began questioning Her. His questions were far less innocent, and could only be described as accusatory. Every sugar-coated word that left his mouth seemed filled with suspicious, jealous and, at times, even blasphemous undertones. God knew this. Raphael knew this, everyone did. And yet... all the same, they were good questions. 

And so he began wanting to know the answers, too. 

“I can’t bear this! I can’t believe that this is happening, and the only thing that I can imagine easing the pain at all is being able to talk about with you, when the whole point is that I won’t be able to do that anymore!” 

Raphael wrapped his wing around the blonde-haired angel beside him, pulling him into a hug. “I know. I hate it too,” he said calmly. 

“It’s just not fair, Raphy! It’s like She’s trying to punish me too.” He lifted his head to look at Raphael. “At the very least, can’t I Fall with you? Then at least we could still be together.” 

Raphael sighed. “Aziraphale...” 

“I know, I know...” And then Aziraphale pressed his face against Raphael’s shoulder and just cried, releasing loud sobs of uncontrollable grief and anguish. Raphael tried as hard as he could to keep a straight face as he continued to silently comfort his angel, but he could feel large tears sliding down his face, some landing in Aziraphale’s hair. Something to remember him by. 

Raphael rubbed Aziraphale’s shaking shoulders in a continuous circle until the smaller angel managed to curb his weeping into soft sniffles, and Raphael took his face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet once more. “Hey,” he said, managing a smile. “Promise me that you’re not going to always be this down in the dumps after I’m gone.” 

Aziraphale laughed weakly as more tears leaked from his eyes. “Probably,” he said, and Raphael seriously hoped he was joking. 

He moved his hands to Aziraphale’s, intertwining their fingers. “Tell you what, I promise you that, wherever I end up, I will find you, my love.” His throat began to close up, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a few seconds to keep himself from breaking. “Because we belong together, okay? And Heaven and Hell and God Herself can try as hard as they like, but they’re not going to keep us apart. Yeah?” 

Aziraphale nodded, looking like he really wanted to believe him. “I love you, Raphy.” 

“I love you, Aziraphale.” They kissed softly, neither wanting to break the embrace. Raphael’s fingers strayed to Aziraphale’s curls and then down across his cheeks, wishing that he had time to memorise every part of his angel’s being so he could always wear it like a second skin, but he knew that they were running out of time. 

They came apart, and Raphael gave Aziraphale a final kiss on his cheek, squeezed his hand one last time, and turned away, knowing that if he looked back then he’d really start crying and never be able to stop. 

“I’ll send you a postcard,” he said, unable to stop his voice from cracking. 

It was time. 

*

“Hello, Raphael,” She said. 

“Hello.” 

“I’m really sorry about this. Truly I am. I had high hopes for you, but... well, we both know what has to happen now.” 

Raphael kept his head bowed, as if he could stop this from being true if he just didn’t look at Her. “Why, though? Why does it have to happen?” 

She paused, and he wondered for a second if She was actually contemplating it, until She said, not cruelly, “It appears you just answered your own question.” 

Raphael nodded. Even now, he couldn’t stop himself from questioning Her. He had taken too many risks, run out of second chances, and now, he was going to pay the price. 

He was completely surrounded by a white light. He didn’t just see it – he was sure he felt it too, like something was binding him, smothering him, attempting to squeeze the life, the essence, the soul, the goodness, _everything_ out of him and Aziraphale, he was losing Aziraphale and it was all over and why had he ever asked any stupid questions? Why couldn’t he just have behaved because God could do anything She liked as long as he could be with Aziraphale because he was all that mattered, all that would ever matter... 

And then everything went black. 

Who knows how long later...

After the Fall, time (a concept Raphael had barely just gotten used to) seemed to pass at double its speed. Before, he had treasured each day, wanting every moment to last forever while being so grateful that there were, as far as he was aware, infinite more to come. Now, time flew by with no purpose, and it didn’t feel like long at all before Raphael’s new home, Hell, was so much more than a ragtag group of ex-angels licking their wounds, but a force considered almost as powerful as Heaven and dead set on destroying it and everything good. 

Not that Raphael had had a part in any of that. After Falling, he had slinked into the shadows, never showing his face, letting his role and legacy be forgotten, because clearly none of that mattered anymore if he could no longer uphold it. It wasn’t until he was dragged back into view and told that apparently God had decided to create something called ‘life’, and it was, for whatever reason, his job to tamper with it. It was made very clear just how much choice he had in the matter. 

So now here he was, on Earth, in the Garden of Eden, having just convinced humanity to commit its first sin. 

Now what? 

He had done everything that Hell had told him to do, so he supposed it made sense to head back there. Maybe now they’d leave him in peace, for at least a few more millennia. 

He shifted out of the new form he’d been given – what was apparently called a ‘snake’, but in his opinion a far more accurate name would have been ‘horrible, evil, useless squirmy thing’, and was about to head off, but just then, he caught sight of himself in the stream he was standing next to. He hadn’t had an opportunity to see what he looked like since before the Fall, but was he couldn’t look away. 

Everything was gone. His translucent skin covered in constellations that moved with the sky, his eyes that sparkled and shone like the Milky Way, his enormous wings made of fragments of midnight. Well, the wings were still black, he supposed, but that was barely something to be grateful for, because he knew that this time the ashy feathers’ colour only meant one thing: sin. His hair was still wavy and red, but what before had curled around his feet now barely reached past his shoulders, and it had lost nearly all of its shine and a lot of its thickness. As he turned his head, he saw a small, twisting mark just next to his ear. It was a snake. He winced, sure that he could hear it mocking him for what he’d becoming, for this new disgusting ability he’d gained. 

Before, he had on multiple occasions been told that he was beautiful, gorgeous, magnificent, and he had felt he had felt he had the right to believe it. But now? Now, he was nothing. 

Finally, he was sure he had shrunk. While before he had towered over his fellow angels, now he would probably only have a few inches on Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale! Raphael suddenly saw a figure in the distance, and by squinting he could make out unmistakably fluffy white-blonde curls. 

It was him. 

Raphael instantly felt the almost unignorable urge to call out to Aziraphale, to run over to him and sweep him into a tight hug and tell him that he would never let them separate them again, but just in time, he stopped. There was no way that Aziraphale would recognise him like this, and as he had no doubt heard of many of the fallen angels – demons, they were now being called – attitudes towards Heaven, Raphael would in no way blame him if he wasn’t sure whether he could trust that Raphael was who he said he was and this wasn’t just one of Hell’s tricks. Alternatively, what if he thought that Raphael was like them, that he was also seeking vengeance on Heaven and the angels, that he had betrayed him? The thought sent a shiver up Raphael’s spine. Besides, even if Aziraphale did believe him, both in saying that he was Raphael, and that he was still the same person he’d been in Heaven, even if they were happily reunited, that happiness could hardly last long. Heaven and Hell would surely find out about an angel and a demon having any sort of relationship, and Raphael highly doubted that the fact that they had fallen in love before they were on opposing sides would lessen the consequences they would surely face. No, he couldn’t tell Aziraphale who he was; there was just too much to risk, and it seemed like however his angel (he’d have to stop calling him that now) reacted, he’d just end up getting hurt. 

Raphael took a deep breath, turned back into his snake form to avoid any slight chance that Aziraphale may be able to recognise him from afar, and prepared for the one he loved most in existence – at this point, the only one he loved at all – to view him as a total stranger. 

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” he said upon reaching the angel. 

Aziraphale laughed his equally adorable and melodic laugh, and Raphael knew that every time he heard it, it would destroy him slightly more. Aziraphale turned to him then. “Sorry, what was that?” he said, and Raphael could see not even a hint of recognition in his eyes. Which was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? So why did it feel like his heart had been pulled out of his chest and was now being stepped on a thousand times? 

The conversation continued until it came to the point for Raphael to introduce himself. 

Having to think quickly, he said the first thing that came into his head, “Crawly,” and instantly regretted it. He must have still had snakes on the brain. Great, not only had he lost Aziraphale, but just to add insult to injury, he’d given himself the worst name he could think of. Give it a century or two and he’d change it, he decided. 

And then Aziraphale looked at him with his beautiful blue eyes, desperately trying to look serious, but something light-hearted clearly trying to pull at his lips. Aziraphale had often told Raph- Crawly that he had the most amazing eyes, but there was something about his own that made it impossible to look away from. Crawly caught himself doing just that – drowning in the blue – and he realised just how big of a mistake he’d made. Because he had promised that he would find Aziraphale and that they would be together again no matter what, and he had been beyond stupid not to realise that no risk was too big if it meant keeping his promise. 

While it was far too dangerous to say anything now, and he had already committed himself to making it appear that he had and Aziraphale had never met before, but maybe one day it would be safe. Maybe one day he would feel that he could tell Aziraphale the truth without dreading what would come next. So, in hope that that day was more than just a naive dream, and as long as, when it came, Aziraphale still wanted him, that would be when they could be together again, even if it took thousands of years for that day to come. 

Around six thousand years later... 

Crowley could barely believe it. After all this time, after so many days and nights spent waiting for this moment to come, it was really happening. He was going to kiss Aziraphale again. Countless times had he been unable to stop himself from dreaming about this moment; the lead-up, how it would happen, what it would be like to feel his lips against his again, but none of those fantasies could have prepared him for the real thing, for Aziraphale’s face so close to his, for the angel’s eyes to show how uncertain yet sure of what he wanted he was – a beautiful oxymoron – for his slightly parted lips looking as if they had something to say when words were the last thing either of them needed right now. 

Crowley moved his head forward, closing his eyes, so close to there being no space at all between them, when he felt Aziraphale move back. Crowley stopped instantly to see Aziraphale’s expression change to something apologetic, tense, maybe even scared? It broke his heart all over again to see him like this. Of course he’d misread the signals, of course this, even after all this time, still couldn’t happen, of course it couldn’t be that easy. 

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said, his voice small and trembling, and it took all of Crowley’s strength not to get up and leave, not because he was at all angry at Aziraphale, but just because what was even the point anymore? He’d messed up, and every second he spent with Aziraphale from now on would only serve as even more reminder for what he’d lost, not once, but twice. “I truly am, Crowley,” Aziraphale continued. “You see, I think... There’s someone else.” Crowley switched his gaze from the table he’d been oh-so focused on to Aziraphale. This was just getting worse and worse. The angel looked away, looking... ashamed? “We knew each other in Heaven, long ago. He was my best friend... and I loved him.” He smiled slightly, sadly. “And he loved me. But then... he Fell.” He looked back to Crowley for a second. “Maybe you knew him?” 

“Raphael.” It came out before Crowley even knew he was going to say it. 

“Yes, that’s it.” For a second, Aziraphale hesitated, and Crowley’s heart leapt foolishly as he wondered if Aziraphale was about to realise. But he simply continued, “He was an archangel, so he outranked me, but it never felt like that at all. I suppose he never did tend to pay much heed to titles and such like. 

“Before he Fell, he promised me that he would find me, and that...” Aziraphale’s breath hitched, and he turned fully away, hiding his face. Was he crying? “...and that we would be together again. That was a long time ago, but I still believe that he will find me, someday, because in all the time I knew him, he never broke his promises.” Now Crowley was certain that Aziraphale was crying, as he let out sobs only partially smothered by his hands, his shoulders shaking. Crowley risked a hand on his shoulder, and Aziraphale didn’t flinch. “So, I’m really sorry, and it’s not that... I do wish...” He gave up on finishing that sentence, but Crowley felt that he understood. “He promised me he’d find me, so I can’t...” 

“Angel,” Crowley said. He waited until Aziraphale had wiped his tears away and turned back to him. “There’s something I need to tell you. Or, well, actually, show you.” 

“Um, okay.” 

Crowley stood up and found a large empty space in the bookshop, as he didn’t quite know if and how this was going to affect his surroundings – if it worked at all, that was. “I really have no idea if this will work. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t really see any reason it will work, but it’s worth trying I guess, so... Here we go.” 

“Crowley, is everything -” 

And there it was again, the white surrounding him, but this time it didn’t feel like it was binding him, but supporting him, lifting him up, all the while changing him, clearing his mind and body and soul, making him a blank canvas which was then covered in the paint of his old life: his old memories of Heaven, of the responsibilities he had been proud to have, of being able to be with Aziraphale and tell him how much he loved him at every chance he had because their love was seen as a good, pure thing, and now he was taking that back. He was taking all of it back, everything that had been ripped from him before, everything that was rightfully his and always would be. 

He was back in the bookshop. He tensed his shoulders and two enormous wings unfolded, each one as black as midnight, both containing the beauty of the night and the hope of a bright, sunny tomorrow, and trembling and fading and rippling with strength, exactly like they were supposed to. He glanced down at his hands, and there they were: Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Perseus – his old friends twinkling up at him, just as they did in the night sky. 

He looked up to see Aziraphale standing before him, a look of immense shock, wonder and what he hoped was joy on his face. He must have rushed to help him when the transformation began, as Crowley could only imagine what kind of sudden, terrible thing that had looked like (of course, he had no way to know for sure, having had no way to spectate). 

“Raphy?” Aziraphale whispered, and there was definite delight in his voice. 

Crowley – Raphael, the angel, the fallen angel, the demon, whatever he was supposed to call himself now, not that he could see why it mattered when he knew exactly who he was inside - smiled. “I told you I’d find you, didn’t I?” 

Their kiss was a hundred times better than he could have ever dreamed.


End file.
